St Kilda Consulting 02 - Innocent as Sin

enough.”
    The two operators nodded and set off toward the garage at a lope.
    “I’ll take the other direction,” Faroe said. “There can’t be more than two or three exits on the south and west sides. I’ve gotanother crew coming in from Scottsdale north. So relax, Rand. We’ve got her covered.”
    “If it was Grace at risk?”
    Faroe didn’t answer. He just set off at a run to cover the exits opposite the garage.

63
    Phoenix
Sunday
1:41 P.M. MST
    T he corridor was empty. Foley crowded Kayla down the hallway to his own office, keyed in, and locked behind him. It took less than twenty seconds. She hoped the guard had seen her on the corridor camera, but she wasn’t counting on it.
    Foley shoved her into a chair.
    “Move and I’ll feed you this gun,” he said.
    Kayla didn’t move. She was still tasting metal and gun oil in her mouth, and her throat was raw from being raked by the end of the pistol. She watched him go to his desk, unlock a file drawer, and pull out a stack of manila folders.
    A grim smile changed his tan, closely shaved face into a death mask. He tapped the files on the desk, then slid them into his briefcase.
    KYC files.
    Kayla’s stomach flipped. Obviously Foley didn’t expect to come back. Those kind of files weren’t supposed to leave the bank. Ever.
    He looked at her. “Bet you wish you’d thought to take thebank references and corporate documents of every suspect private banking client with you.”
    “I don’t have any suspect private clients. I turned down their business or bucked them up to you for refusal.”
    “Have I thanked you for those referrals? Profitable for the bank. Very profitable for me. I’m especially pleased with Jesus Del Santos and Ramon Herrera Parra. Did you know who they were when you bounced them up to me?”
    “No.”
    “Del Santos was the lieutenant governor of Jalisco, and Herrera was chief of the federales in northwest Mexico. They both have eight-figure accounts in our bank now.”
    “How did you wash the blood off their money?”
    “Power, babe, power and politics. Don’t cry to me if you weren’t smart enough to get them on your books.”
    Foley unlocked another file and pulled out a flat aluminum case that could have held cameras. He was undoing the catches on the lid when the phone on his desk began to ring. He glanced at the console.
    “It’s your line,” he said. “Your boyfriend?”
    Kayla stared blankly at Foley.
    Foley glanced at his watch, then cocked his head, listening.
    “They’re going to start looking pretty soon,” he said, more to himself than to her.
    The phone rang.
    He opened the case.
    Kayla saw that it was lined with plastic foam that had been cut out to hold certain shapes.
    The phone rang.
    The pistol on the desk would have fit one of the empty cutouts. Next to it lay a black metal cylinder that she guessed was a silencer.
    The phone rang.
    Black on silver is out this season, she thought. But she didn’t say it out loud. She didn’t trust her voice.
    The phone rang.
    Foley fit the cylinder to the end of his pistol and spun it into place.
    The phone rang.
    He picked up a loaded magazine from the case and dropped it into the pocket of the dark wind shell he wore over his white silk T-shirt.
    The phone rang.
    Methodically he closed and relocked the drawers.
    The phone didn’t ring.
    “You have got two choices,” Foley said. He forced the cold bulb of the silencer between her lips. “You can come with me and keep your mouth shut or you can die here.”
    His expression told her that he meant it. He was coming apart in front of her eyes. There was only one thing he cared about right now.
    Getting out.
    “I’ll go with you,” she managed around the silencer.
    Finger on the trigger, he stared at her for several long breaths. Then he shoved her away.
    “We’ll take the elevator. If we run into anybody—your boyfriend or a security guard or a maid—I’ll kill them.”
    Kayla believed it. She could wait to make a break for it until he got her to the garage. Rand would be there. She was certain of it.
    And he was no innocent bystander.
    “Be quiet or their blood will be on your hands no matter who pulls the trigger,” Foley said. “Got that?”
    She nodded.
    He picked up the briefcase and shoved her toward the door.
    They walked swiftly down the long corridor, past the employee elevators. They turned the corner, heading for the executive elevator that served the parking structure. He reached for the